Thresh-holds
by Arista Starfyr
Summary: Ever wonder what happens when FanFic realities get into a car accident? Read on to see what kind of disaster when Ninja Turtles meet up with clone LEXX. Looky! More chapters!
1. Lawyer Stuff before the fun stuff

Authors notes, disclaimers, blah, blah, blah, blah....  
  
  
  
Disclaimer: LEXX, the series, concepts and characters, are the property, copyright and trademark of Salter Street Films. No ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by use in this work. This work constitutes a personal comment/review on the said properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This work is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purpose. Ditto for Ninja Turtles, who belong to Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird. Arista Starfyr, Hawke, UnknownKai (Kohl) and various fantasy creatures who have a personality are my personal characters. All other characters spoken in third party are from other Lexx writers, and have been used graciously with permission. If you wish to use any of these in future writings, please email me first.  
  
If you have no idea what I am talking about concerning LEXX or the Clone Games, please feel free to visit this site to learn more about 'Rista's "Other Side"...  
  
  
http://www.geocities.com/LexxHospitality/  
  
I hope everyone has fun with reading as much as I have fun writing. FanFic is a labor of love--please respond in kind with a few words of encouragement!  
  
If you wish to learn more about Arista and her other adventures, please email me, and I can direct you through her history. Thank you all! 


	2. The Coming of a New Nation

Chapter 1: The Coming of a New Nation   
  
  
*single word or phrase* ==italics  
*Sentance* == thought of character  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"What the--"  
  
"Who the hell are these two?"  
  
"--Jeez! She bleeding to death!" The third voice clamped a strong hand over her shoulder.  
  
A fourth voice called out a little in the distance. "The guy's out cold. I don't see any wounds, but..."  
  
"But what, Don?" The first voice pressed.  
  
....  
  
"He's burning up."  
  
She could hear a sigh near her head. The distinct sound of someone not thrilled with making the next decision. "Okay, let's take them back. We'd better tournequet that gash. Looks like something hit an artery."  
  
She felt herself rising....was she being carried? To where? And her companion, where was he? If only she could draw herself to the surface to speak!  
  
"Ut--this guy weighs a ton of bricks!"  
  
She could feel herself smile inwardly. Yep, he was here. Still. Now, if she could only figure out *where* she was. If she could just bring herself back to the surface, to rise above this haze that over took her body. The only thing she could remember was a warning about reality threads crossing.  
  
Reality...she knew better than to mess with timelines, what had she been doing?  
  
What were they doing, for that matter?  
  
And...who were *they*?  
  
  
  
**********************************  
  
  
  
She awakened fully sometime later. Her brain was all fuzzy and floating on a dark cloud from blood loss, but nothing that she had not handled before. It took a while for her to feel comfortable enough to open her eyes. Even when she did so, there still wasn't much left to see; the lights were out. Seemed as if no one was awake. Did they have guards watching her?  
  
She didn't awaken with her hair in her face, and her wounds had been dressed. She was on the couch. Wait...there *was* a couch?! The ceiling, though, was interlaced with strained glass windowing. *Am I in a church?* Very little air circulation. Was she...was she underground, perhaps?  
  
Slowly, she started to sit up, careful to keep weight on the squeaky parts of the couch. The slow movements also helped her to figure out just how weak she really was. If she could move, she could fight, if need be. Good enough for her. Not another living soul near her. Not even her companion was visible. She silently turned her head, wondering if she were alone or not. The young woman felt that her hair was free instead of braided. Great, she'll leave blond hairs all over the place. Where was her sword? They must have taken it; her captors. Or her saviors...she wouldn't know who they were until she met up with them.  
  
Okay, time to find him, and get the hell out of there. The gaps in her memory as to why they were here, and how they in fact got there, would reveal themselves in time. Until then, she would have to play this one by ear.  
  
Her form was slight in the shaddows, so slight that it seemed as if she were a mere shaddow herself. Her movements were silent as she moved to quickly explore her surroundings. No one would notice her exploration of this underground facility. It seemed almost like an abandoned subway system. She frowned at that thought. There were no such things in K-Town.  
  
Nope, wouldn't have been noticed at all, that is, if everyone had been asleep. But one was still awake, watching her every move from his near invisible hiding spot. Nothing moved but his eyes. He was impressed, to say the least. Not only was this chick hot, but she moved just like a ninja. His eyes narrowed at that thought. If he hadn't kept an eye on her from the moment she woke up, he would have never known she was moving about on her own.  
  
*Heh, Fearless Leader wanted her questioned as soon as she was awake,* he thought to himself. *Well, let's just see what she's going to do if she thinks she's not being watched.*  
  
The woman looked at each of the subway cars, but did not move to enter any of them. They would definitely make noise, and she was currently weaponless, according to her benefactors/captors. But he must be in one of those cars.  
  
She ignored the voices that kept questioning her; those voices that would banter her constantly if she gave into them that she actually did hear them. Not to say that she was insane--*Heh, Psy would just about die-die laughing over that one!* but it was not usual for commom-folk to hear the dead. Like she was considered common-folk to begin with. There weren't many voices, or *Locals* as she would always call them, perhaps a handful who had perished building this section of the subway, and another handful of unlucky passengers. They finally got her attention with a statement.  
  
--The dragon's watching you.--  
  
She swerved, her flinty grey eyes meeting with her observer's. "Dragon?" But it wasn't her lover's warm hazel gaze. Immediately, she became wary again as voices fluttered excitedly around her. "He's not my Dragon."  
  
"I ain't no body's dragon, toots," grated the Brooklyn accent. "How'd you know I was here?" *And what part did I leave not hiding?!*  
  
"How'd you know I'd be up?" she countered softly, her voice holding a slight, forgien accent that he couldn't fathom to place. She moved slowly to the side. She had to admit, he hid himself well in the shaddows. All she could see were those icy cool eyes. "I had a companion with me."  
  
"Yeah, the guy's still out cold. Donni has him in the infirmary; hotter than a baked potato."  
  
Almost immediately, she picked up the direction of the informary and turned towards it. "Out cold?"  
  
"Why don't you let me ask the questions, eh? You're on our turf, now. We saved you."  
  
Her mind was elsewhere, though. She hardly paid attention to him. "Saved us from what?"  
  
"You know b than me."  
  
She took a step in the direction of the infirmary. "My Dragon needs me." She felt a restraining hand on her arm--purposely her right injured arm. She yanked him out of the shaddows so forcefully that she nearly blacked out from the sharp pain, but she also knocked him off his balance. Now, she had a good look at him. "So. You are a turtle."  
  
Her lack of shock suprised him the most. He covered his anger for being caught off guard and his suprise with a snide remark. "You expectin' a hedgehog, or somethin'?" 


	3. Raph Meets His Match

Chapter 2---Raph Meets His Match  
  
  
  
--"You expectin a hedgehog, or somethin'?"  
  
She twisted her arm out of his grasp. "No. I just didn't believe your companions."  
  
"What do you mean? *I'm* the only one who's awake."  
  
"I'm not talking about the living," Arista said matter-of-factly. Her eyes slowly appraised her would-be captor. He was bulked up with muscles upon muscles, and wore very little except for protection at the joints of his limbs. Slung in his belt were two weapons, and a red eye mask. The ends snaked over one shoulder like hair. *This guy works out.* she thought. "Where I come from, we have never--"  
  
"We're not little green aliens, sweetheart. Our native home is good ol' earth," he challenged.  
  
"Well, sweetheart, I'm not from earth," she countered briskly. His attitude was getting on her nerves. There was her darling, unconscious on the bed, and this turtle had the audacity to keep her from finding out what's going on? He was in for a big suprise.  
  
"Just what in the hell are you talking about?"  
  
She wasn't facing him when she smirked. That got his goat. * Well, boy-o you're gonna find out, aren't you?* "A little hard of hearing, are we? I said where I come from, we don't have giant talking turtles."  
  
"Well, what DO you have?"  
  
"Giant talking, fire breathing dragons. And I thought you were going to ask all the questions, hot shot."  
  
The turtle clenched both fists and jaw, saying nothing for a moment. He watched the woman head into the infirmary and quickly followed behind. "What your name?" His voice was harsh and clipped, as if she had tried what little patience he had.  
  
"Arista."  
  
"Why you here?"  
  
"You brought us here."  
  
"But why are you *here*?"  
  
Arista was silent, edging around the corner to see her companion on one of the beds. She glided to his side, her face unreadable. He was unconscious, like a corpse. His skin was still that faintly pale complexion with the tattoo slashed across his face. They had folded his hands on his stomach, left over right. She could see the outline of the Dragon tattoo on his wrist. His midnight black hair was still braided with the forelock draping over one ear. Her fingers grazed along his still hand. Her voice was soft and calm with more than a hint of saddness.  
  
"I do not know."  
  
The turtle blinked, not necessarily knowing what else to do. Definitely a hottie, and though she was not 'bulked up,' her muscles were lean and wiry.  
  
"Do you have a name?"  
  
Her query broke him out of his contemplation of her body. "Huh? Oh, it's Raph."  
  
"That's nice."  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?" He asked, getting defiensive again.  
  
"Arista looked up, her defenses bristling again. "What do you think I was implying?"  
  
"Why don't you tell me?" he countered, not likeing her attitude at all. "You're the one who nearly got her arm sliced off."  
  
"Oh, a great big pissing contest, is it?" Arista spat, turning to face Raph head on. "What, since I'm *vulnerable,* and you have two sai, you get to be 'settle down, little girl'?! My Gods, you need an attitude adjustment. My Promised is here, just lying here, and you're acting like a smitten five year old. Why don't you just throw a snake in my hair, or something?" Arista gestured wildly.  
  
She suddenly felt the slam of a body against hers, and then the wall at her back. Her wrists were painfully wrenched above her head and pinned to the wall. Raph held them with one hand as the other held a sai to her throat. "Okay. You move like ninja, you know the weapons, hell, you have a funky katana, for crying out loud--"  
  
"UniKazi? You have him?" For a moment, she lost her present position to the thoughts of her blade.  
  
"Who are you working for?" Raph growled harshly. "Who's your Master?"  
  
"I have no master," she protested, forcing away a grimace of pain. She wasn't going to him the satisfaction of knowing he was tearing at the sutures in her arm.  
  
"Then where'd you learn what you know?"  
  
"Let me go."  
  
"Not until you convince me you're not some spy."  
  
Arista's eyes blazed from grey to violet as she glared at him.   
  
"What's going on, here?" Called a voice from the doorway. Arista glanced over Raph's shoulder to see two other turtles with weapons blazing.  
  
"She's a spy, Leo," Raph gorwled softly, never tearing his eyes off her.   
  
She turned her attention back to Raph. "Oh, please! There are more important people to spy on my list than YOU."  
  
"She's as silent as any of us," he continued. "If that katana isn't proof enough--"  
  
"It's not," Leo countered, walking forward. He had been awakened byt the shout, and he looked the part. "Let her go, Raph." 


	4. All That Glitters....

All that glitters...  
  
  
  
  
"It's not," Leo countered, walking forward. He had been awakened by the shout, and he looked the part. "Let her go, Raph."  
  
"Yeah," agreed the turtle still at the doorway, stifling a yawn. "She looks like she's ready to tan your hide. Besides, just because she was carrying a katana, doesn't mean she knows how to use it."  
  
Arista smirked. Finally growing tired of having her hands pinned over her head, she leaned fowards, feeling Raph tense in front of her. She pressed her lips square on his beak, completely throwing him off guard. As soon as she felt him relax in confusion, she swept one foot away from under him and wrenched her hands away.  
  
She panted softly, glaring at Raph as she hugged her right arm to her body. "You're an egotistical maniac," she spat, edging away from the turtles.  
  
He almost caught her off guard. Arista didn't see the blur of motion, but she felt it well enough as Raph sped towards her, his sai in his hands. She slid off to one side, her hands grasping for one of the weapons as he nearly ran into the wall.  
  
That woke the others up.  
  
She stood with the sai in front, her eyes afire as she waited for Raph to turn around. Her lips had moved to some cadence that the others didn't recognize as she balanced her weight again, preparing for another attack. The turtle before her was seething, blind with rage to be outclassed by this stranger. Luckily he was dealing with her, and not him. He'd have ripped Raph in sections by now. "Stand down," she said between mutterings.  
  
"Lady, you are out of your friggin mind," Raph said, getting ready to charge.  
  
"You wouldn't be the first to tell me that," Arista clipped almost cheerfully, eager to show these guys that she is more than apt to take care of herself. *Just a few more seconds--*  
  
"Weapons down!"  
  
Arista jumped. She hadn't done that in a long time. Of course, she hadn't felt a presence such as this in a long time, either. She decided that now was not the right time to swear about a ruined spell, and looked up at Raph. He glowered above her head, back to the doorway. "She's a ninja spy, Master--"  
  
"I said weapons down!" repeated the bark.  
  
Ninja? Arista's face went blank for a moment, her thoughts going back to Riva's training. Her friend had mentioned something about ninjas, but what was it? She decided it was better to dwell on it later, and straighten up, lowering the sai, but not relinquishing it. She spun sharply on her heel, hiding her suprise that there were now three turtles and a fairly large rat keeping an eye on her. Normally, she wouldn't have turned her back on an enemy, but she could no longer sense Raph intending to run her through.  
  
She knew that nothing was pointing at her any longer, but the weapons weren't completely gone. Her grey eyes steadied on the one called 'Master', and she walked towards him, her breath coming out in slight puffs. She was forced to stop a few feet before him--one turtle with two katana blocked her path. She realized then that she was still holding the handle to the sai. With a quick flip, she grasped the weapon end and handed it to the rat, waiting.  
  
He took it from her, nodding once. He was waiting for her to speak, and he knew that she would not go without a say in this whole thing. "I have no master, Grandfather." With that, she turned, sauntering over to her beloved's still form and stood by it. "I was not sent here to destroy you, or spy on you, or anything of that nature. If I knew why we were here, I'd tell you. If you have any suggestions, I'm more than open to them."  
  
The Master nodded again, never taking his eyes off her. "Michaelangelo, make tea," he said softly. No one would be getting much sleep tonight. "Come with us, child. We need to talk."  
  
Arista looked up with near hopelessness in her eyes, but then she nodded, following complacently. Raph caused a stirr behind her. "But *Master*--"  
  
"Enough, Raphael! She would mean us no harm," the Master declared, his sharp eyes glittering at his student.   
  
Growling to show his displeasure, but not saying another word, he brushed by all of them, grabbing his trench coat and hat, and slamming the door shut.  
  
  
  
  
  



	5. Stories to Last Lifetimes

Stories to Last Lifetimes.  
  
  
  
  
If she was still wary of them, she didn't show it. In fact, she smiled her thanks to the one called Michaelangelo as she took the handle-less cup from him. "Here you go, dudette."  
  
Arista had been offered a seat on the couch, but she preferred the floor by the coffee table. Behind her sat the two unnamed turtles and Michaelangelo was off to her left. The Master sat in a rocker, telling of the story of how they came to be. Arista was quiet through the whole thing, sipping the black tea as if it were a tonic, and nodding as she gave recognition to everyone's names.  
  
"So, what's your story?" Mike asked, leaning forward as he waited for her to answer.  
  
Arista was quiet, contemplating on how much she should say, and what she should keep silent. "The Dragon and I are not...from around here, as you can see. Our home is near APEC castle, and on the property of the DEN." She smiled over her steaming cup as her words brought lost faces. "I cannot relate more than that, we are usually under barrages of attacks from those who wish to take the Ladies' technology."  
  
"What sort of technology?" piped up Don.   
  
"Cloning."  
  
"Cloning!"  
  
"Yes, that's what I said. Cloning. Unknown is a --"  
  
"B-but cloning hasn't been sanctioned by the government! It even hasn't been successful in humans!" Don was clearly excited and anxious about this particular topic.  
  
"Neither is mutations, but it seems that never stopped you," Arista said in a quiet voice.  
  
"We really didn't have much choice," Leo rumbled in correction.  
  
"Any road, cloning works, and it exists," She decided to continue and finish her story. "There are over seventy, maybe even 80 now, Kai clones from APEC. There is an indisclosed amount from Nadless, APECs former enemy who's forces were taken over by The Martha. There were one or two fractions here and there that also took up the cloning business. Unknown was from one such fraction, but he is the only survivor of that batch. But everyone holds their own personality, their own soul. We are basically one large family."  
  
"How can they all be individual if they have the same genetic material as the one? And who is this 'one'?"  
  
"The Original is Kai, who is for all intents and purposes, the father of all Kaiclones. And...he is alive-dead. That makes 99% of all the clones alive-dead. A few of them have...evolved to other forms, I cannot necessarily say 'alive', for they don't fit our definitions of life. But they exist, and they love the ladies they are bonded to."  
  
That last statement was greeted by silence. Mike was the one who decided to venture in clarifying Arista's statement. "You mean you all grew these clones to be love slaves? You couldn't find any decent men to find a relationship with?"  
  
"I am not the one to best explain the intentions of the Elders," Arista began slowly. "I only know what I know, and even I do not best understand it. The original purpose of the clones was for protection, and it became something more, that's all I truly know. I met Unknown in California, and he had saved my life! I knew him before I knew he was a clone, or that there were clones on this planet."  
  
"Whoa. What do you mean...on this planet?"  
  
"I haven't lived here all my lives," Arista replied in a slightly know-it-all tone. "But I didn't drop out of the sky yesterday, either." She stopped for a moment, her hand going to her injured shoulder. "I think all those stitches got ripped out."  
  
Everyone stopped for a moment as if suddenly realizing that she was injured. Splinter was the first to move into action, having his sons collect the necessary items to re-evaluate what type of damage she had caused her arm yet again. Arista moved slowly with a bemused sort of smile on her face as slowly undid the buttons of her shirt so that the dressing could be accessed.  
  
"My apologies for the actions of my son," Splinter began, shaking his head against the reddening stain on the white bandage.  
  
"He acts before he thinks, and he's a hot head," Arista dismissed as she winced. "Reminds me of a very good friend of mine. Psy's almost like that, but he's...mellowed with age."  
  
"*That* must have taken forever," Leo snapped a little. "Seems like Raph will never grow up." He looked up briefly, noticing their guest's state of undress and quickly looked away. Not to say that the off-the-shoulder look wasn't becoming, but this was business. However, he did elbow Mike for staring.  
  
Arista was silent as she watched the dressing reveal a deep puncture wound that had slashed off to one side. Air hissed through her teeth as she watched fresh blood ooze through the wound. "I wonder what made that." 


	6. Do Battle with One Another

Do Battle with One another...   
  
After a bandage change and some more soothing tea, Arista slept as well as any person who's love remained unconscious and one's arm throbbing painfully from sounds. If someone still watched over her, she didn't care. There were enough 'locals' to watch over them for her. She would not inform these creatures that she was a necromancer. Usually, the mere sound of the title ran her out of towns. *Damn those people who abused that right.*  
  
She had thought she was the first one awake, even if she could not see daylight. Her body told her it was still sundown with a few more hours to go. Arista padded quietly through the rooms, looking for her sword, more than anything else. That, and the voices from the dead were already whispering stories of their previous lives and the lives of the living near them. They always looked for an ear who would listen. Her greatest pondering was how in the world did one of them touch the blade and not be harmed. The soul blade hated men; even Unknown didn't touch it.  
  
Finally, her questions were answered. Her blade lay sheathed in a swath of silk from point to pommel. Arista recognied the room as a training area of sorts, and immediately the weapons around her reminded her of SamKai's dojo. Her left arm in a sling, she grasped the silken handle with her right. In response, the runes etched on the blade glowed as the sword seemed to purr.  
  
The sword, at first glance, looked like a curved katana, perhaps made from damascus steel. But the guard was a little too elaborate, and the blade was double edged. The damascus designs were actually the runes that usually stayed quiet, but when the blade was excited, they would flash an eerie electric blue.  
  
"Miss me?" Arista murmured softly, unwinding the silk as she admired the light. "I'm suprised that you hadn't eaten anyone. I know that you would not allow them insight in keeping you."  
  
--The Lion's awake--  
  
She swerved a second before she heard the sound of his voice. "Your blade has a soul that did not seem...amenable to anyone other than it's owner to weild it." There he was, fully dressed, as any of the other Turtles were, his own sheathed traditional katanas to one side.  
  
"You understand soul blades?" Arista was interested in this one.  
  
"I understand that swords become a life of their own. That is the way of the Shinto," Leo observed, his eyes following the movements of her blade.  
  
"UniKazi has always been aware," Arista corrected, her grey eyes flashing to the Turtle. "He was created by Chaos."  
  
"Uni...Kazi. Wind--"  
  
"Demon Wind."  
  
Leo shook his head. "No. If it were that, it would be Uni Kame."  
  
"I did not name this blade, and it is not Japanese. Who knows what exact language was used to name it."   
  
There was a long moment of silence.  
  
"So...why are you awake?"  
  
"Why are you?"  
  
Because practise is in a couple of hours."  
  
Arista turned again to look at Leo, shouldering her blade like a fishing pole. "I couldn't sleep. Decided to get my right arm used to sword play, since my left will be taking a vacation."  
  
Leo watched her take a few tentative steps to the center of the training mats, her bare feet making no sound. "Do you remember anything prior to your arrival here?"  
  
"Bits and pieces," Arista answered, making certain that her left arm was secure to her body. "There was a ritual, but I don't remember if I participated or observed. Something happened, a wrongness was felt. Was it an accident?" She removed the last of the silk and allowed it to flutter to a corner of the floor as she spoke. "Was it intentional? I remember a child's scream. Maybe it was my son's. I remember battleing against hell. I then remember waking up here."  
  
"That's not much to go on," Leo commented.  
  
"Never is."  
  
Arista slowly experimented with the blade, carefully stretching her arm muscles with large circular motions, twisting her wrist so that the blade winked in the light.  
  
"You seem pretty calm for a mother who's son might have been injured."  
  
"I do not know the whole story. If my son was in danger, then my friends would then take care of him. There's no reason to panic before finding out if there is valid reason to." Gradually, she became more confident in her arm, and she began some more involved maneuvers. It couldn't be called katas, whatever it was she was doing, but it was definitely more involved than simply imagining an enemy to fight. 


	7. Which One is the Loser?

Which One is the Loser?  
  
  
  
Leonardo silently appraised her movements which were more like a dance with the sword as a prop than a fighting sequence that looked like a dance. She was good, in her own right. Her breathing was as measured as any well-trained ninja, her feet placed into specific positions, her sword seemingly to cover all points around her body in a flash. There was a strange grace to her, something that wasn't normally seen as a human's grace. Like a panther, perhaps, or a swan.  
  
Arista's eyes remained unfocused and drawn into herself as she practised one movement over and over. She still wasn't comfortable with it, and it had nearly cost her her sword arm. Now, trying to convince her right arm to use this maneuver was proving to be more difficult than before. But she wasn't so into herself to the point where she couldn't notice the flash of two new blades before her.  
  
Arista flashed a smile. "Jealous?"  
  
"I just thought you needed a partner."  
  
She changed her style to allow Leo to come in with his own katana, tapping them away lightly. "A little presumptous of you, I think."  
  
Leo shrugged a little as he avoided her thrust. "It's my job to know when a student requires a little coaxing."  
  
"Ah...so not you feel that I need to be fathered." Arista's smirk grew wider. "You make an ass out of you and me."  
  
"I would never assume!"  
  
"As you think." She defended herself nearly effortlessly against Leo's twin blades. She was keen to his fighting style, almost expecting him to revert to martial arts physical contact. After all, that's what her friend Riva had done one time when loosing to a sword fight. Arista did not have any actual counter moves, but she kept Leo on his toes enough to keep him wary.  
  
Arista locked her grey eeys with his so that she only saw the flash of blades in her perpheral vision. Leo couldn't help but feel that she was staring straight into his brain, picking out his next moves. Was she playing with him? How could she be holding back? And why was it that she was barely winded? He almost felt hypnotized by those flinty eyes. They demanded his attention, and he almost felt helpless to resist.  
  
Finally, Leo broke out of the trance, flipping over Arista's head and landing behind her. They bother swerved to face each other, their swords sparking and singing as they clashed together. Arista had a bemused expression on her face. "Ye've had enough?"  
  
Leo's eye widened in suprisement, then narrowed. "You, Lady, seemed to have taken to my supposed habit of assuming."  
  
She chuckled huskily, ducking a round house and then hopping over a front sweep. "In my experience, when the opponent is strained, the opponent will begin the unexpected moves. Otherwise known as play dirty."  
  
Leo decided that perhaps he should concentrate in putting this woman in her place and not be such a chatterbox. She was even cockier than Raph, but didn't have the aggression behind it. He also decided that he had been going too easy on her. evidently, her injury did not seem to hinder her performance.  
  
Arista seemed to know when the Turtle decided to have body contact a part of this routine, and adjusted her tactics accordingly. Leo never knew anyone able to subsitute a sword for a bo, but she was making good time doing so. Who in the world was her master? It seemed as if she needed to prove that she was more than capable in handling herself against advirsaries, especially after whatever had happened to her.   
  
Finally, Leo received the upper hand. He had managed to sneak under her defenses and disarm Arista. Swordless and unfamiliar with the ninja arts, she was quickly subdued. Soon enough, Arista found herself on her back as Leo pinned her. While she was winded, he was panting heavily. But her eyes never lost that twinkle of mischief. "Do you think you're finally made your point, Leo?"  
  
For a minute, he had the overwhelming urge to kiss her. He had to do something to get that self assured smirk off her face, as if whatever he would try to do didn't matter. She would always have the upper hand. However, it seemed that no matter what, he would not be able to subdue her. Leo suddenly pushed himself off Arista as he heard a sound form the doorway. There were the rest of his brothers and his Master. How long had they been watching?! Evidently, from the smug look on Raph's face, long enough! 


	8. Heh, heh....oops?

Heh, heh....um....ooops?  
  
Leo could feel his face catch on fire. "Umm...."  
  
"Thanks for the early morning work out," Arista said, gracefully rising to her feet. She lifted Leo's swords and offered them to him. Even if her mouth didn't smile, her eyes did.  
  
Leo mutely took the blades, still trying to formulate some sort of excuse. How in the world was he going to explain pinning her down on the mats? No one said a word as Arista walked over to her own blade and picked it up. "I suppose I should leave you to your morning routines." Arista turned to look at Splinter. Her left foot took a step back as she bowed slightly, touching the tip of her sword to the ground. She rose again, walking past the other Turtles without a backwards glance.  
  
"Katas," Splinter declared, bringing them all back into focus. Silently, each Turtle jogged to their place, knowing better than to question what had happened at this time. Splinter watched for a minute or so, then turned away to follow the girl. He met up with her in the kitchen. She looked so tired as she rumaged around for breakfast. He could feel crushing disappointment when she shook her head, saying something about foraging later.   
  
"May I have a moment with you, child?"  
  
Her eyes shifted and she immediately brightened. "Of course. But I would not wish to disturb your morning exercises."  
  
"You would not be imposing. My sons have been doing this since they could walk." He offered to go to a more private area of the Lair, and Arista followed quietly. "My apologies for not being able to be a proper guest," he began softly. "There has been little fortune for us, of late."  
  
"Hey, don't worry about it, Grandfather," Arista said, waving a hand in the air as if dismissing it all. "You have been very kind to the both of us, and I mean to return the favor. I still have some funds, and even Wolfie admits that I can make a feast out of a skinned rabbit."  
  
***********  
  
As soon as they noticed that both Arista and Splinter were not around, they began twenty questions on Leo.  
  
Mike was the first. "What were you thinking, dude?"  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about," their leader defended hotly.  
  
"Please! First you made out like you were tryin' to kill her, then you were ready to make out with her on the floor!" Raph snorted. 'You can't say that it was all completely innocent."  
  
"It was innocent."  
  
No one believed him. Not even soft-spoken Don. "She's *married*, Leo. I just don't understand--"  
  
"Look, nothing was gonna happen, all right?!" Leo's voice not only changed in pitch, but also in volume.  
  
There was a few moments of peace. Then Mike started the rounds again. "So...what was it like, sparring with her?"  
  
Leo gave a strangled sound, glaring at them all. "Will you give it a rest?"  
  
"That's got to be one of his fantasies," Raph egged. "Spar with a woman until they're both hot and bothered, not to mention exhaust her, and then fu--"  
  
Raph didn't finish the sentence as he was suddenly knocked to the ground. Leo seethed over him. "I said...give it a rest."  
  
Raph won, and he knew it. "Jealous? Whether it happened or not, Leo, you still wanted it to."  
  
Disgusted, Leo stalked off, deciding to practice as far away from his brothers that was possible in the dojo. He was disgusted not because they wouldn't let sleeping dogs lie...  
  
...he was disgusted because Raph was right.  
  
Raph didn't seemed phased at all as he picked himself up and brushed himself off, ginning as if he'd eaten the canary. "Ya got ta admit, she's one hell of a looker--for a spy. Especially when she doesn't show any inhibitions." Even though he wasn't present when Arista's wounds were tended to again, Mike spared no detail. She had basically acted as if no one else was in the room as she stripped down so that the bandage could be changed. Not an ounce of modesty at all. "Oh, don't get me wrong, she's delicious enough. I would have taken her right then and there myself--"  
  
"From my experience," rumbled an unfamiliar voice, "*taking* a lady usually will grant you receiving your balls in a small, wet baggie, especially with her."  
  
Everyone swerved with their weapons drawn to meet the stranger. No one dared to go further than that, however. The *feel* of this man was...unexplicable. And it was the one whom no one thought would wake up. The fierce hazel eyes warned them that if they continued on with their conversation, they all would regret it. "Where's my 'Rista?" 


End file.
